You, Me, and Bandages
by freyinthelake
Summary: AU / Merlin comes back wounded from a skirmish with bandits and Freya is faced with her fear of losing the one person that matters most. But who might she lose him to first: the sword, or Arthur? Companion piece to When the Jacket Fits.


_This is sort of a follow up to When the Jacket Fits, and it's in the same AU. Which probably requires a bit of explaining:_

_Essentially, after Freya was burned in the boat, the lake gradually began to heal her body and put it back together. By the time the Golden Age of Camelot rolled around, her body was completely restored with no more curse, and she could wander to and from the lake while still being its guardian. Freya eventually made her way back to Camelot. She and Merlin found each other, and he asked her to live with him and Gaius, now a much safer arrangement. This and the aforementioned drabble take place during this time._

* * *

Arthur and three knights had burst through both Gaius's door and Merlin's before Freya had time to place the heavy wooden sound. Leon and Elyan were bearing a limp Merlin between them with Gwaine propping Arthur up. The mending Freya had been fiddling with was soon blown aside in her shock in favor of immediately rising to her feet and flying to Merlin's side. After appraising him with lightning speed (three heavy rakes of a sword to his left side, with another, deeper stab to his left leg), she glanced over the knights. Nothing but scratches that could be quickly mended were seen. A soft groan turned her attention back to the prone and pale figure of Merlin and her heart rose to her throat.

"What happened?" was her incredulous question, Freya quite forgetting that she was addressing the King of Camelot and Knights of the Round Table.

"We were rushed - bandits," Elyan breathed out wearily. Arthur tried to step forward but only stumbled into Freya's vacated chair. She flew to the King's side this time and eased him into it. His own chain mail had been torn in several places with unforgiving red bleeding through. "He went in front, as usual, the idiot," he murmured with a smirk and half lidded eyes. He and Merlin had been the most badly wounded out of the group, it seemed.

"I don't know where Gaius is, but -" and she was promptly cut off by yet another crash of the front door and a cry of "What's going on?!" from the physician himself. A mad shuffle to get to Gaius ensued, with the knights trying equally not to tread on each other's feet and bear their king out gracefully. Freya could hear them laying him onto a cot as Gaius tutted furiously over all four of them. Her gaze returning to the heart wrenching sight that was Merlin, choking back sobs as she released one of his hands she hadn't realized she was holding. Taking one more look at his wounds, she realized she need supplies badly. Her brief presence in the front room was nothing but a whirl of dust and pink cloth as she got a bucket of water and bandages. Despite her quickness, nothing was missed by Gaius who followed her back to Merlin's room.

His gasp was heard before she felt him stand alongside her. "Oh Merlin, blast it, what have you done this time?" Freya shook he head helplessly as Gaius breezed a hand across the warlock's damp forehead. "Freya, I must tend to the king - do you think you can handle this?" Before the physician could go on, the druid girl nodded rapidly, unable to form words quite yet. The surprise of it all had barely sunk it and all her energy was only adrenaline.

Quickly she cut away what little was left of the shredded side of Merlin's shirt and doused his cuts with a damp cloth. He twitched unconsciously and she brushed away the hair plastered to his forehead.

"Merlin...always throwing yourself into danger. Will you ever stop? Will you never be careful?"

* * *

Several quiet and tense hours later, Merlin's eyes at last fluttered open. Arthur and the knights had all been tended to and sent off to rest, Gaius trailing behind the king with a watchful eye (and eyebrow) on him. The only sounds made were the tinkling of water from Freya's water pail and the occasional sniffle. The lack of cheerful noise was beginning to cut at her like spears until he shifted in his new state of awareness. She seized his hand immediately, and he looked blearily at her through a haze of pain.

"Freya?" She nodded, biting her lip. If Merlin had said her name any quieter it wouldn't have been heard. "What happened?"

She'd barely opened her mouth to answer when, for the third bloody time that day, the door to the front room slammed open and the pounding of boots that could only be Arthur's broke Freya's little bubble.

"Is he awa - Merlin! By the Gods, you're awake you dunce!" Arthur smiled so wide that when he said those words Freya know they held no spite. His servant smiled weakly and grunted in reply. "Couldn't let you get yourself killed, and by _bandits_ no less." Arthur guffawed and patted Merlin on the shoulder. "When are you ever going to learn, Merlin, that I do actually know how to defend myself?"

By now both king and master were grinning at each other stupidly, so Freya quietly excused herself to get fresh water and a few more cloths. Gaius was puttering around his work table and looked up at her. "So he's awake now," he murmured with a soft look on his face. Smiling fleetingly, Freya nodded in assent.

"He won't be able to walk for several days, or at least you'll have to make sure he doesn't."

Gaius chuckled heartily and shook his head at her statement. "He won't listen to me, but he might if you tell him. You'd be able to make him listen."

Normally Freya might have beamed at such a comment, but her occasional trickles of doubt had begun to run a river in her brain. She had feeling it would always be Arthur before anything else. Arthur before Gaius, Arthur before Gwen, Arthur before...her. Merlin would deny it, but she knew that often enough it was true. Freya only got to spend time with him when Arthur excused him from duties or Arthur was away and didn't take Merlin. Even at night, from her little cot, she would wait for him to stumble in from a harrowing day of pitchforks and armor and getting goblets thrown at his head. He was far too tired to talk or do anything at all except fall asleep.

She couldn't dawdle much longer before Gaius or even Arthur would start to wonder and she knew it. Ducking past the physician, Freya climbed the steps again and returned to her seat on Merlin's bed. Arthur was talking more _at_ Merlin then_ to_ him now, and Merlin's eyes followed her movements as she dampened another clean cloth. She forced herself to look him, only to find a very gentle look in those eyes. A genuine smile found its way to her lips before she looked away.

It was then that she felt two different hands. One grasping her shoulder, firm in its acknowledgement and gratitude, the other wrapping around her left wrist and softly stroking the inside.

"I can see you've taken good care of him, Freya. Thank you," Arthur reassured her. She looked up at him with watery eyes and replied, "You're welcome."

She had to say this through tiny shivers radiating throughout her body. The feeling of Merlin's fingers up and down her wrist was grounding her, yet terribly, pleasantly, distracting at the same time. It was the sort of feeling she'd missed until it hurt; not that she would say anything about it.

Ever since she'd come back, no matter how overjoyed Merlin had acted, no matter what he'd said, working for Arthur and Camelot had trumped all else. A few times Merlin had gone to bed very tired, but he'd whispered to her across the room, "I promise Freya, one of these days, soon, we'll have some time. Just us." And then he'd drifted to sleep to wake up the next day before the sun.

A light squeeze on her shoulder brought her mind back to the little room. Arthur was saying something about checking on Merlin later and slapping him on the (uninjured) shoulder again. Freya bowed her head respectfully at the king's exit while Merlin's gaze lingered on the now empty doorway, obviously unhappy to see his king leave. A shaky sigh escaped Freya's lips, and of course Merlin had to notice. His fingers found her wrist again.

"I guess I was a little foolish this time, eh?" He laughed breathily while she dabbed at his side again, applying some cooling salve to it. Nodding quickly, she busied herself with changing the dressing on his leg.

"Were you frightened?"came the quiet, almost timed query.

"Of course!" she snapped before she could think, and Merlin's eyes widened.

"I mean - I'm sorry Merlin." Breath catching, she caught his large hand between both of her small ones and pressed a kiss to the pad of his thumb. "You can't imagine how much." The tears she'd kept at bay ever since he'd been carried like a sack of turnips through the bedroom door began to spill.

"You've gone on several patrols, a few fights, and I was always nervous, but...when they carried you in..." The feeling of sheer terror and looming emptiness had left her frozen before she even acknowledged the presence of Arthur and the knights. All she could see was the mop of black hair, the pale cheeks, and the utterly lifeless-looking figure.

"I thought I was going to lose you again." Those were the bare minimum and maximum amount of words she could possibly use to convey how she felt. Understanding began to flood into Merlin's eyes, and it was his turn to whisper, "I'm sorry."

Freya shook her head. "No, as brave...and as stupid as it was, you were doing your job, protecting your king." Merlin beamed at this, and sighed fondly after a few beats. "The prat doesn't know how to look out for himself, no matter how he says he does."

Looking away, the druid directed her attention to finishing wrapping up his leg. As soon as she finished she felt a tug on her sleeve. She slowly raised her eyes to Merlin's, finding a pleading, surprisingly tender, look in his. Directing a playful huff towards him to disguise the fact that she was inwardly melting, she said matter-of-factly, "Not on that side." He laughed and followed her with his eyes once more as she walked to the other side of the bed.

Just as soon Freya sat down Merlin pulled her towards him, causing her to almost topple onto him. Both of them burst into giggles, and he wrapped his good arm around her shoulders and twisted onto his right side. Merlin looked her dead in the eye and murmured, "I did mean to scare you. I am sorry. I wish that...that I didn't have to throw myself in front of stupid kings as much as I do. That I could give you something better, that we could have more time -"

"No Merlin, don't say that." Freya's voice had regained its even-ness and she said the words with every ounce of conviction she could muster. "Don't ever apologize for being a good servant." The edges of the warlock's eyes crinkled ever so slightly and he pulled her even closer. She buried her head in the crook of his neck, feeling the steady and sure beating of his heart beneath her fingertips.

"I'm glad we have this. I'm glad I've got you at all. It's only been a few weeks since I found you, but..." Unable to continue, Freya resorted to fisting her hand in his shirt where the thump of his heart had been felt only moments ago. A taut breath came from Merlin as he listened to her, pressing a fervent kiss to her head.

"It's been so good having you back. I know I come back tired almost ever day, but you don't know how wonderful it is to feel you in the same room. Safe. _There_."

Hot tears began to fall down onto Freya's nose as the words rolled over her head. Never in her life had she imaged anyone saying the things Merlin was saying to her. Tipping her head back to look at Merlin, she found his eyes slightly red and brimming. She laughed just a little at his open expression, and when a few tears did fall, she wiped them away quickly.

"You're wonderful, you know that?"

In answer, he tilted his head down and took her now smiling mouth in a kiss. Freya felt as though he was pouring every emotion of the moment he could into it, and it felt like heaven. She did the same until she really, _really_ had to take a breath. He wasn't happy with just one touch though, and chased her mouth until she met his lips again with a giggle. His tongue barely grazed her bottom lip and she quickly let him in. They were chasing each other's tongues for a minute or two, making up for lost time and unspoken promises.

Far too soon, Freya had gently push him away due to concern that Merlin wouldn't be able to catch his breath. He wasn't a fan of this at all and buried his face in her shoulder with a groan. Rolling her eyes affectionately, she poked his arm to make him listen.

"We need to get you better first, then when you're a little more healed..." she trailed off again, leaving him to finish her sentence She could feel him smile through her dress and he dragged her closer again, thinking they'd gotten too far apart.

"Arthur's going to insist that I rest for at least a week. Which means..." he paused. Blinking hesitantly, he peered up at her through his lashes.

"You'll stay with me won't you?" The shyness in his voice was enough to break her heart, and she kissed his cheek sweetly.

"Of course I will," she affirmed in barely a whisper, in words only for the two of them. "I wouldn't dream of leaving you."

Apparently satisfied with such an answer, Merlin brushed a strand of hair away from her face before re-acquainting himself with her shoulder. Unable to help herself from smiling again, Freya combed her fingers through his hair and sighed, letting her eyes fall closed. Within an hour, both of them were asleep.


End file.
